[ Old World - Blackmoon Stronghold - inner chamber ]
Kieran just stood there.
Stone.
Not a flicker of movement, not even the rise and fall of his chest.
He only stared at Alpha Malrick's face…stared as if he could peel truth from his father's skin if he glared long enough… like make him confess he was drunk or bluffing or something like that.
The silence stretched into minutes between the Alphas…too heavy. Suffocating.
Finally, his lips parted. But when it did, his voice was a ghost, hoarse and low.
"My mother? Did you say my mother???"
The words fractured the stillness like brittle glass.
Malrick's jaw tightened. Slowly, deliberately, he reached forward and set a weathered hand on Kieran's shoulder. He squeezed firm, grounding and gently pushed his son down onto the bench behind them.
His own knees cracked with age or perhaps grief…as he lowered himself to face him. He held his son's eyes, refusing to let him look away.
